


I Never Told You What I Do for a Living

by morningham



Category: Hunter X Hunter
Genre: AU where Illumi never took the exam, Bottom!Hisoka, Enemies to Lovers, Feelings (kinda), First Time, M/M, Porn With Plot, chrollo is a filthy bottom, the children are just briefly mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:49:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25957027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morningham/pseuds/morningham
Summary: "If I really wanted you dead, don’t you think you would be already?”
Relationships: Hisoka/Illumi Zoldyck, Hisoka/Kuroro Lucifer | Chrollo Lucifer
Comments: 9
Kudos: 124





	I Never Told You What I Do for a Living

**Author's Note:**

> title is from my chemical romance because i'm an emo fuck.
> 
> this was going to be a loooot shorter but i decided what the hell, let them have 5k words of Hisoka thirsting after Illumi.

Hisoka had always prided himself on turning predators into prey. He’s never had a problem doing so before, because more often than not the assassins the fat, rich, lords had sent after him were simply playthings. Like a mutt with a chew toy, really. This time, there was something different. They’d eluded him for longer than he’d liked before, but never like this. Hisoka could sense that someone was tailing him constantly, learning his routines, and their presence nagged at him. He’d considered enlisting Chrollo’s help, but that came with a price, and though he’d usually managed to weasel out of any real payments, Chrollo would be less inclined to help stop someone hired to kill him. So much for honor among thieves. He’d resigned himself to playing the waiting game. Heaven’s Area had provided a much welcome distraction, and the money didn’t hurt. He’d given up on thieving for the time being, content to laze around the penthouse and wait for the assassin to slip up. He’d noticed the man during a fight. He’d easily snapped the neck of the man he was fighting, and had happily pranced to collect his prize when he’d felt the eyes boring into the back of his head.

“Have we met?” Hisoka slits his eyes, taking in the man’s appearance. He had pins, sticking out of his entire face, down through his neck. It was horrifying and yet intriguing. Hisoka enjoyed toeing that line. Nonetheless, the man looked somewhat familiar, but he couldn’t place it.

The man gazed at him for a half beat, before clicking noisily. “We haven’t, no.” He clicks again, extending a hand in greeting. “I’m Gritcrackur.”

Hisoka, without hesitation, shakes his hand, gaze never wavering. “Hisoka." He cocked his head and felt the man’s grip on his hand tighten incrementally.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“You’re very enjoyable to watch. I’ve never seen someone with your-skillset-before.” Despite the praising words, the man sounds terribly bored, as if he can’t be bothered to let any emotion seep through his words.

Hisoka played his part. “My my, thank you. Could I treat you to dinner? The restaurants in this town are simply to _die_ for.” He bows, and the man shrugs.

“I wouldn’t turn down a free meal.” Hisoka nods to him, and before he can tell him where to go the man turns on his heel and clicks away. He watches him go, puzzled and uneasy, a new and rare emotion for someone like himself, before padding off to his room.

He’d fully stripped before carefully removing his right hand. He’d need to call the spiders regardless it seemed, could already feel the poison coursing through his severed fingertips. It seems that he’s found the assassin. Matchi begrudgingly agrees to patch him up, though she demands a ridiculous amount of jenny, and Hisoka swears he can hear Chrollo laughing when she prods for an explanation. He ignores the throbbing in his stump and sets his hand on the dresser to shower. Matchi had come surprisingly quickly, and she’d had a hearty laugh at him as she’d reattached and drew out the poison from his severed limb. He’d paid more than he would’ve liked to, but really was in no position to argue pricing. He’d just steal it back from them when he’d finished up at the arena. He’s not quite decided _how_ he’s going to kill Gritcrakur, decides that anything up close and personal poses more of a risk. However, Hisoka likes a little bit of risk, and decides he’ll sleep on it.

Of course, it’s hard to sleep when there's a one hundred and fifty pound man sitting on your chest trying to strangle you. Hisoka fights his body’s natural urge to struggle, rather taking a gasping breath before working his knees up and punching them into the man’s gut.

“I see you’ve taken off your disguise.” Hisoka gasps, throat raw, and suddenly he remembers where he knew the man from. The Zoldyck family had been after him for ages, after he’d stolen from them. He was just a boy when he’d done so, and _really_ , holding a grudge for so long is quite ridiculous. “You must be Illumi?” Illumi looks at him, startled.

“How would you know that?” Hisoka’s throat suddenly feels much better.

“Well, you see, you really should have planned a bit more carefully.” Hisoka purrs, sitting up and tucking his knees underneath himself. “I know all about you.” He’s bluffing of course, knew as much as he could learn from sparse googling and light stalking of Killua, the youngest of the family. Illumi just stares at him, backing slowly against the wall. Hisoka knows it’s all a game. A ploy to make him feel in control, like he had the upper hand. Alas, the Zoldyck family was truly skilled, but Hisoka was better.

“How?”

“Killua.” Hisoka spits out his brother’s name, vile on his tongue, and that wretched little cretin had really given him all the information he had needed. Not with his knowledge, of course, but he and Gon really talked rather loudly and Hisoka did enjoy eavesdropping.

“He would never.”

“Mm, but yet here you and I are. I know everything about you, and you’ve come to kill me. Shall we begin?” Hisoka absently conjures his nen, drags his fingers through his still damp hair and glances bored at Illumi.

“No.” Before Hisoka can fully process what the assassin has just said to him, he’s gone. Completely vanished out of thin air. He wants to scream, wants to rip Illumi to absolute shreds. It’s been far too long since he’d had a fair fight. He settles for pouting to himself and rolling back over into bed. He wakes up thinking about the eyes that had bored into his own, dark and unyielding, and the long dark hair that had brushed against his cheek. He knows he’ll take pleasure in tearing apart such a beautiful specimen.

“I need a favor.” Hisoka knows showing up at the spider’s hideout unannounced is doing him no good, but the place is deserted, save for Chrollo reading, lounging on one of the large boulders. He barely even looks up over the book.

“Why would I help you again? Didn’t Matchi do enough for you yesterday?”

“The Zoldyck family is after me again.”

“Oh, should have opened with that Hisoka, really.” He snaps the book shut, swings his legs up over the other rock and leans back, tipping his head back. Hisoka ignores the urge to bite across the pale skin, to mark it beautifully and tries to focus on what he’s came for. Chrollo gazes at him, waiting for the explanation, and Hisoka decides professionalism is overrated. He crosses the room, picking up Chrollo’s legs and pulling them across his lap.

“I just need to know where Illumi Zoldyck is staying. That’s all.” He creeps a nail up Chrollo’s thigh, teasing lightly, until the other man’s breath catches audibly in his throat.

“And you need me to do this for you why?”

“Because,” Hisoka pauses, stroking thin fingers across Chrollo’s lips. “You’re the best.” Hisoka coaxes his fingers into his mouth, pressing his tongue. Chrollo finally shifts toward him, stifling a whimper. “And,” Hisoka moves to grip his chin, forcing Chrollo to look up at him. “I think you owe me this.”

“Fine.” Chrollo huffs, sitting up a bit straighter, and Hisoka swiftly settles across his hips, taps his nose.

“I suppose you’d like to be paid in jenny?” He teases, and Chrollo glares at him, drags him in for a bruisingly hard kiss. Hisoka lets him lead for a beat, rough, teeth clacking until he opts for the more frustrating route, gently nipping at Chrollo’s ear before licking a stripe across his throat. He whines, pulling Hisoka closer, dragging their hips together until he can’t take any more, yanking at the ties on Chrollo’s ridiculous leather pants and pulling them down his thighs. “For someone who complains he’s never compensated fairly you sure don’t seem to mind my more _unconventional_ methods.” Hisoka blows a hot breath over Chrollo’s cock, just to hear him whimper again, and before he can retort back Hisoka swallows him down until he hits the back of his throat.

It doesn’t take much to reduce the smaller man to a writhing mess, really only two fingers roving into his entrance and Chrollo is begging. Hisoka thinks briefly he should have a painting commissioned of Chrollo like this, hang it in a museum, or his suite at Heaven’s Arena. He loves him like this, teetering on the edge, Hisoka the one to determine when he falls. He decides to be merciful, because Chrollo is indeed doing him a favor. Chrollo works fast when he's motivated, Hisoka knows, and when they’re both lying together, sweaty, Chrollo shoves at him.

“Let me up and I’ll see if any of the spiders can find him. They’re in the city now.” Surprisingly it only takes a few moments. Finding a man with a face covered in pins is probably not as complicated as one might imagine.

“Thank you, Danchou.” Hisoka bows, and Chrollo just waves a hand at him dismissively.

“I don’t ever want to see you again, Hisoka.”

“Call me whenever Chrollo, really. It’s a pleasure.” He crumples the note with the coordinates of the hotel into his waistband, skips off to lie in wait. The hotel room is empty, lights off and Hisoka can’t sense even a trace of nen in the room. He knows well enough that if the user is good enough, they can mask it almost completely, but it takes lots of energy. He snoops through the room until he’s satisfied, and sits down at the small table in the middle of the room to wait. He’s sure hours pass before the locks clicks, and he waits until the tall man is through the door to throw one of his cards, pinning his shoulder to the wall.

“Hi again.” Hisoka cheerfully spins his chair, plops back down and rests his chin on the back of it. Illumi startles, yanks at the card lodged into his shoulder and pulls it dripping bloody with a wince.

“I thought I said I didn’t want to fight you.”

“Yes, well, you tried to poison me, and that meant I had to cut off my own _hand_ , and that alone was bothersome enough to warrant some revenge on my part.”

“Go ahead then.” Illumi changes his stance to open, welcoming an attack. Hisoka knows better, because nobody in their right mind would welcome an onslaught without some sort of counter.

“You’re up to something, Illumi Zoldyck.” Hisoka giggles, climbs off the chair and takes a step closer to him. “I’m not just some bounty, some low level thug you’re picking off for easy money.”

“No, you’re not.” Illumi agrees. “My father tasked me with getting rid of you, which means you hold some importance. However-’” He pauses to scratch at the side of his neck, eyeing Hisoka. “I really don’t see why he sent me. Killua could have handled you and he’s a child.”

“Is that what you think?” Hisoka flicks another card absently, this time pinning Illumi’s hands to the door. He winces, flexes and the cards hold steady. “Did your father happen to tell you why he’s after me?”

“No.”

“Allow me to share. It really is a wonderful story.” Hisoka steps closer, drags his nails lightly under Illumi’s right eye, and thinks about digging it out, sending him back to his father with a message. “You look nothing like your brother.” Hisoka twirls a strand of long black hair around his finger.

“He took after my father in the looks department.” Illumi says softly, crumpling back against the wall to ease the pressure on his hands. Hisoka plucks one out, licks the blood off it like he’s tasting an expensive wine.

“That he did. Would you still like dinner? I’m starved.” He grins, at the assassins curt nod rips the other card out of his hand. Hisoka knows all it takes is one miscalculation on his part and Illumi will poison his food or run off again. He attempts to remain on high alert, settles for walking silently into the loud, crowded outdoor market with Ilumi trailing next to him, nursing his wounded hands. He only seems mildly perturbed when they find a table to sit at, glaring at Hisoka as the young waitress comes to take their order. Hisoka knows better than to take his eyes off Illumi, mumbles something to the waitress about how they’ll take whatever the special is and hands her the menu without another word.

“Do you plan to just stare at me the entire time we’re here?” Illumi blinks, leans forward to rest his chin on his fist.

“Depends on if you try to kill me again, I suppose.” “What did you do to my father?” Hisoka really is particularly fond of this story. “I had just mastered my nen, was barely seventeen, and I wandered upon your mansion. This was before your father had put up that _ridiculous_ door, and so I decided to explore. The property was intriguing, your house much more so, and I took something from it to remember.”

“How did father know it was you who’d stolen from him?”

“He’s not ever been very keen on me, so when I realized where I was I left him something to remember me by.” Hisoka shrugs. “I suppose you could say it worked.”

“Indeed. And what did you take?”

“A book.” Hisoka leaves it at that, curls his lips into a small smile as the waitress brings them two steaming bowls of soup. Illumi thanks her, glancing up briefly and Hisoka just watches him.

“Well you dragged me all the way here, eat.” Illumi chides as he mucks his spoon through the bowl.

“You first.” Hisoka pushes his own dish towards the man across from him, who blinks slowly and leans forward. He takes a bite, swallows and sticks his tongue out at the magician before spooning up some of his own.

“You know,” Illumi swallows again, tapping the table with a finger. “If I really wanted you dead, don’t you think you would be already?”

“You’ve tried twice, and failed. At this point it might be time for a new career.” Hisoka sneers, and his hunger overwhelms him enough for him to take a tentative bite. It’s not as if Matchi can reattach his guts if he has to rip those out. The soup melts in his mouth and Hisoka supposes if he keels over at least he’d gotten a delicious last meal. Illumi laughs, for the first time since Hisoka has noticed him, and it’s a little too cryptic for his liking given their train of conversation.

“I’ve been following you since you killed that Spider and drooled over their Danchou. So let me ask you again. If I really wanted you dead, don’t you think you would be already?” Illumi narrows his eyes, visibly irritated.

“You mean to say you’ve been following me for a year?” This is news to Hisoka. He’d only noticed the assassin a week ago, had assumed stupidly that was when the stalking had _begun_. He doesn’t like the feeling settling in his gut, the way his stomach feels like it’s bunching into a million tiny knots.

“I have been, yes.” Illumi clucks his tongue, smiles slightly at the confused expression Hisoka can’t seem to wipe off his face. “Given your track record, I thought you would have noticed sooner but I suppose you were busy with other things.” Hisoka likes this. The jealousy seeping through Illumi’s words, the way he unconsciously frowns through his shroud of raven hair at the thought of Hisoka’s depraved activities.

“Oh, so you watched. Quite the voyeur, eh Illumi?” Hisoka teases, the knots in his stomach slowly unraveling as Illumi looks increasingly more embarrassed. This he knows. Working his enemies down to a bundle of fried nerves before cutting the circuit. It’s delightful.

“I know that’s how you found me.”

“Did you watch as I wrecked him? Chrollo truly comes undone so beautifully. He’s much more willing to help when he’s completely fucked out.” Hisoka pauses, scanning for any micro reactions. He gets one, and that’s enough. “That book? I stole from your father? I gave that to him as a gift many years ago now, and yet- he still reads it.”

“I know.” Illumi’s normally monotonous tone cracks, and Hisoka licks his lips. He's cracked the shell, and now- now is the time to feast upon the delicacies inside.

“You’re a smart one, I’ll give you that.” Hisoka grins wider, trails one finger across the table to poke at the still fresh wound in Illumi’s hand. “Tell me, is that why you haven’t killed me? Curious to know what it’s like?”

Illumi suddenly snaps himself shut, giving Hisoka a withering stare. “I’ve grown bored of you.” He shrugs, pushing his chair back. “Although I’m sure we’ll meet again. Perhaps as allies?” He walks to the door through the throng of people at the entrance and vanishes again.

Hisoka throws a few crumpled bills on the table - far more than the meal cost, but who could be bothered with specifics, really, and happily makes the trek back to the area. He knows Illumi will come to him, as they so often do, overcome with their pride or their lust or Hisoka’s favorite, their blinding stupidity. Like moths to a flame, and while these things more often than not tend to have shorter lifespans than Illumi’s, Hisoka revels in the end in sight. His bloodlust flares at the mental images of Illumi strewn across his floor. Such a tempting picture. He knows the assassin is still following him, knows how hard it is to simply walk away from a kill, and if Illumi is anything like his father, Hisoka was in for a truly wonderful end to his evening. He decides to shower longer than usual, now aware of his follower, doesn’t bother with a towel and drips all over the carpet as he rummages for something to wear. If he didn’t have such a flair for the dramatic he might wear his hair down more, and it could use a cut but who had the time for such trivial things. There were throats to rip out and sickening magic tricks to perform, and in lieu of recent events, assassins to kill. He tries to conjure the mental image of Illumi dead on his carpet again, and instead thinks of him gasping, writhing in the silken sheets and that’s not right. Hisoka frowns, ignores the way he jolts at the thought, and curls up to wait. He’s almost nodding off from boredom when he senses nen. Illumi had been so careful, and perhaps it was another eager intruder, and either way, Hisoka nearly foamed at the mouth. It was high time he’d had a fair fight. He lazily conjures his own nen, to steel from any sneak attacks, and before the intruder can take another step he’s being shot back, bungee gummed to the wall.

“Oh for fucks sake, Hisoka!” The voice is familiar, and for a moment his brain short circuits, _why, why the fuck was Chrollo in his room?_ “Expecting someone else?” He frowns as Hisoka flicks on the light, and Hisoka lets him free, giggling when he smacks into the floor with a groan.

“Wasn’t expecting anyone, really.”

“Liar.”

“This coming from the man who said he never wanted to see me again.”

“Oh shut up.” Chrollo waves dismissively at him, gathers himself before continuing. “I have a job I thought you might be interested in.”

“And you came here, in the middle of the fucking night, when you could’ve just sent a text?” Hisoka knows him better than that. He cocks his head as Chrollo turns a lovely, albeit rare shade of pink and glances at the floor. It’s adorable.

“I might’ve deleted your contact.” Hisoka knows for a fact that he hadn’t, but he likes Chrollo when he’s embarrassed, loathe to try and wrench the truth out of him and spoil his own fun.

“Such a child.” Hisoka pokes his tongue out and Chrollo mirrors him, and for a moment, one could think they were normal people. The thought is foreign and leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and Hisoka banishes it immediately. “What’s the job?”

“The Zoldyck family is hosting a soiree of some kind. I’m not entirely sure of the reason. I’ve been meaning to hit them anyways, if you’d like to join me?”

“I’d be delighted. Now, unless you’re going to stay and make my night worth staying up for, I was sleeping.” Hisoka doesn’t even attempt to keep the eager tone from seeping into his voice. Illumi will undoubtedly be in attendance at his family’s get together. Killing a Zoldyck on their home turf is a rare and welcome challenge. And Chrollo knew how to ask for things _oh so_ nicely.

“Goodnight, Hisoka.” Chrollo gives him a withering glare, grumbles something under his breath and sneaks back out the door.

To his extreme displeasure, Hisoka sleeps soundly through the night. He has a fight in the afternoon, and while the rest had done him good, the disappointment of not being able to see Illumi clouded his brain. He nearly loses the fight. He never loses, rarely comes close, and the fog covering his mind is impairing his ability to be the showman he often strives to be. His opponent is quite good, and under normal circumstances he’d still have to put in a decent amount of effort. It’s a welcome change. The crowd roars when he spits a tooth out onto the floor with a gob of blood, and his opponent grins wickedly, and Hisoka takes great pleasure in throwing a card straight into his forehead. The man dies cross eyed, which is embarrassing, and Hisoka dutifully collects his payment before limping off to his room. No real damage has been done, a few cracked ribs and a black eye that will turn a hideous shade of yellow in the morning is all he’s left with.

_Chrollo Lucifer_

_Meet at the gate at 7pm on Friday. Formal wear._

Hisoka blinks a few times at the message, rummages for his old suit- which turns out to be comically too small- and upon further inspection decides he’ll need a new pair of dress shoes too.

_Hisoka_

_How formal?_

Chrollo replies almost immediately, and Hisoka can feel the sass through the phone. _Like you’re attending your own funeral. And do something about your face, while you’re at it. Can’t be recognized the second you step in the door._

He writes back a retort about Chrollo having his number, and is met with silence. Hisoka hates formal events. Friday comes sooner than he’d like, he’s still sporting the black eye, and he feels like he’s suffocating in the suit he’d bought. It’s boring, black and more black, and he’d brought a red tie that Chrollo had promptly thrown out the window of the car they’d taken.

“You're nearly unrecognizable without your clown getup, you know.” Chrollo is staring at him, and he feels naked suddenly, with a bare face and hair loose. It’s not ideal, in fact he despises it, but he’s smart enough to realize that he’d be killed on the spot if someone were to recognize him.

“You look like a twelve year old.” Hisoka sighs dryly, and Chrollo turns tomato red. He’s wearing a headband of some sort, concealing the cross on his forehead, hair shaggy and framing his face. Hisoka feels like he’s sitting next to a stranger. They ride in miserable silence, both seething about looking so out of character.

“What exactly are we here to do?” Hisoka asks lowly as they weave into the throng of elite party goers.

“There’s a safe upstairs I thought might pique your interest.”

“ _You’re_ going to be satisfied with jewelry?”

“Tonight I will be.” Hisoka doesn’t buy it for a moment. He dutifully follows Chrollo anyways, sidestepping drunk businessmen and their giggling wives. They manage to sneak to the top landing without much trouble, and when the guard rounds the corner Chrollo gives a very convincing performance long enough for Hisoka to snap his neck and lower him quietly against the wall.

“You really are stealing diamonds tonight? Do you owe someone money?” Hisoka slips into the room, leaves the door cracked open enough to spot any other people.

“Would you just drop it.” Chrollo hisses at him, thin fingers working over the safe. Hisoka makes a point to flick his fingers off the dial, _once, twice_ and finally the smaller man wheels on him.

“Why such a secret? You asked me to help you, remember?” Chrollo heaves a sigh, like speaking is exhausting.

“I came for the sequel.”

“To?” He prods, and Chrollo turns back to the safe.

“The book you stole for me all those years ago. I heard the only copy in the area was locked up here.” Hisoka opens his mouth to reply, and instead of words a small squeak comes flying out of his mouth as a body lands full force on top of him.

“Really? I mean, how ballsy can you get.” Illumi’s monotone voice drawls in his ear, and Hisoka feels a small fire pool in his stomach. _Finally_.

“I don’t know what you mean. I’m just here to enjoy the party.” Hisoka doesn’t attempt to throw off the other man, feels a hand on his neck that’s shoving his face into the rug. Illumi laughs, pulls at Hisoka’s hair.

“You don’t much look like yourself. But you forget. I know all of your faces, Hisoka.” He tries to turn his head enough to see where Chrollo had gone, is wondering _why in the world_ the smaller man wasn’t helping him, and when he looks up Chrollo is in a small heap near the safe.

“Did you kill him?” For the first time in his life, Hisoka’s voice trembles. He feels sick, bile rising in the back of his throat, and it’s foreign and makes him want to weep. Perhaps because Chrollo was the closest thing Hisoka had to a friend. He cared for the thief, despite their bickering and Chrollo’s annoying habit of ignoring him for months at a time.

“Don’t sound so upset over it.” Illumi growls, and Hisoka sees white. He throws Illumi off his back in one fluid motion, slamming him into the wall with a dull thud, before jumping to his feet. Illumi just grins at him, taunting, and they stare for a moment, anticipating the other's offensive move.

“Are you going to kill me or fuck me? I mean really.” Hisoka can tell the lewd comment throws off the assassin, just enough for Hisoka to tackle him to the ground, hands crushing into his windpipe.

“He’s fine.” Illumi chokes out beneath his iron grip on his throat. Hisoka loosens, rage subsiding, and in a moment of surprising clarity dives down to claim Illumi’s mouth with his own. Kissing him is a fight all it’s own. He’s not used to the pushback, the nipping and the way Illumi is claiming his mouth, dragging his fingers through Hisoka’s hair. Hisoka moves his hands to stroke across Illumi’s pale chest, teasing a nipple through his dress shirt, and Illumi responds in turn by shoving his hand down Hisoka’s pants.

“Take it off.” Hisoka mutters against his neck, dragging at Illumi’s suit jacket, pushing it down his arms and working at his belt. Illumi shoves at his chest for a moment, enough of a pause to work his pants off his hips.

“Can’t fuck you if you’re fully clothed, Hisoka.” Illumi stares up at him, eyes blazing a hole into his skull, and Hisoka starts to strip, piece by piece. He lets the dark haired man pin him on his back, feels thin fingers wrapping around his cock and subconsciously bucks into the touch. Illumi bites his collarbone, down to his chest, biting and soothing with his tongue. He whines when Illumi tightens his grip, and he can’t remember the last time he’d given up control. His body tenses as Illumi presses a finger into him, slow and gentle.

“Relax, it’ll be good.” Illumi kisses him again, softer, explorative. “I promise.” He whispers against Hisoka’s lips, crooking his finger, and Hisoka forces himself to focus on the waves of pleasure as Illumi presses closer, nipping at his earlobe where earrings usually hang. He adds a second finger, encouraged by Hisoka’s small whine, which he’ll deny ever came out of his mouth in the future, and Hisoka scrabbles at his back, trying to pull him even closer, body on fire.

“When you’re not trying to kill me, you’re absolutely stunning, you know.” Illumi brushes his hair back, strokes down his cheek, tender and soft and Hisoka forgets how to breathe, stares up into the expansive eyes gazing at him with such emotion and he wants to cry. “So beautiful.” Illumi licks the tear that tracks down his face of its own accord, crooks his fingers once more before removing them to rummage around on the floor. Hisoka just watches him, nimble and thin, and in any other situation he would have been fucking into Illumi by now, pinning his thin wrists above his head and biting him until he bleed. He wasn’t used to softness, to tenderness of any kind, and when Illumi finally fucks into him he stops thinking about what he _would_ do. He lets out a breathy moan, eyes rolling back into his head and after a few moments of slow thrusting, wraps his thighs around Illumi’s hips, dragging him closer.

“Harder, please.” He whispers, face buried in the other’s neck, and the assassin complies, reaching between their flush bodies to stroke Hisoka’s cock again in time with his thrusts.

“Isn’t this better than dying?” Illumi pants, kissing his sweat slicked forehead and Hisoka whimpers as Illumi hits the spot inside him that lights his insides on fire. He’s close, and for a heartbeat thinks it’s too soon, opens his mouth to beg Illumi to slow down and no words come out, just breathless pants. He never allows himself to enjoy sex to its fullest pleasure, has to be on high alert, even when he’s in control, when he’s the one reducing the body beneath him to a writhing mess. In his line of work, Hisoka knows, he’s never truly safe. “Come for me, Hisoka.” Illumi growls, thrusting erratic and rough, and a moan rips from his throat at the words. He sees stars, feels come roping across his own stomach and chest, and Illumi stutters for a moment, beautiful sighs escaping his lips before he nearly collapses his full weight onto Hisoka, breathlessly panting against his neck. They lay still for a moment, too spent to speak or move, and Hisoka has half a mind to card his fingers through Illumi’s hair, the soft strands tickling his cheek. Illumi’s heartbeat is thudding against his own, strong and heavy, and Hisoka pushes gently at him, reaching blindly for his suit jacket to clean them off.

“You shouldn’t have come here. If my father sees you, he’ll put your head on a spike outside.”

“I think it was worth it, don’t you?” Hisoka pushes himself up on his elbows, Illumi rolling off to lie beside him on the cool wood floor. He gets shot a withering glare, that slowly turns into a small smile, which is enough.

“You could’ve just showed up at my apartment again.”

“You would’ve indulged me then? I like the risk.” Hisoka kisses him, hand holding his face, and Illumi laughs against his mouth, pushes him off to pull on his crumpled shirt.

“If you and your friend,” Illumi jerks a thumb over his shoulder at Chrollo. “Make it out of here in one piece, I suppose I could find you again.”

“Carrying dead weight and a bag of stolen jewels will prove to be quite the challenge. Lucky for you, I relish it.” Hisoka hums, pulling on his own clothes before standing, gathering the unconscious thief in his arms.

“Tell him to stop drinking on the job.” Illumi brushes at the wrinkles in his shirt, tucking his hair back behind his ears. “I’ll see you soon.” And with that, turns on his heel and leaves Hisoka staring after him. The man knew how to make an exit, Hisoka muses, clicking the safe open and stuffing the small bag of jewels into his ruined coat pocket.

He spots the book Chrollo had been pittering on about, tucks it under his arm and moves towards the window, which to his surprise and glee is unlocked. He throws Chrollo out first, into a small bush which provides for a somewhat cushioned landing before leaping out himself, hoisting the thief over his shoulder again and making his way to their idling car. Chrollo wakes up irate, smacks Hisoka when he realizes he’d been thrown from a window into a _rosebush_ , but calms when Hisoka hands him the book. They both settle back into the cushioned seats, the mansion dying out of view in the rearview mirror.

“I want you to know that you were entirely useless.” Hisoka tells him when they arrive back in Yorknew, and Chrollo just absently side eyes him, thumb stroking over the spine of the book.

"You got what you came for, didn't you?" He _had_ , though it hadn't been quite what he was expecting. “Goodbye, Hisoka.” He grumbles, nearly pushing him out of the car, and Hisoka swats at him before stalking off into the cool night. It’s a short walk to Heaven’s area, but the cool air does enough to clear his head. He allows himself to relax, nen no longer buzzing under his skin as it usually does. He knows Illumi is somewhere, watching, assessing danger for him. It’s oddly comforting, and Hisoka decides he might like to get used to it.

**Author's Note:**

> find me on the tumblr at morningham! as usual i thrive on comments, feedback, and prompts. Thanks for reading!


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